The News I Didn’t Expect

The News I Didn’t Expect
Mike’s POV

At Mike’s Office.

I didn’t go straight to the office that morning. I just couldn’t. I needed to breathe. 

I stopped at a small café near the corner, grabbed a black coffee, and sat in my car for a while. The cup was hot in my hands, but I barely felt it. My phone was on the passenger seat, lighting up every few seconds with messages from the company’s group chat. Work updates, meeting reminders, and financial figures that normally gave me a sense of order.

But not today.

By the time I made it to the office, it was almost ten. My assistant had already dropped a stack of files on my desk. Quarterly reports, contracts, investor letters… everything waiting for my attention.

I dropped my phone beside the documents, loosened my tie, and turned on the TV mounted across the office. I usually kept it on a business channel, just for the noise. It helped drown out my thoughts.

But that morning, the silence broke in a way I didn’t expect.

“…in other news, The GlamHome, a fast-rising cosmetics company under Henderson’s Corporation, has just signed a major international partnership with Marvella Skincare Group, Italy.”

My hand froze halfway to my coffee cup.

The camera switched to a woman walking out of a tall glass building, surrounded by cameras and flashing lights. Her posture was confident, her steps steady. Her black hair was longer than I remembered, styled in soft waves that framed her face perfectly. She was wearing a cream-colored suit that looked like it cost more than what most people made in a month. Her face was calm, professional, and proud.

“GlamHome’s CEO, Mrs. Diane Henderson, officially confirmed the partnership deal valued at over fifty million dollars,” the reporter continued. “This agreement marks the first time a Graham City–based cosmetic company has secured a full-scale foreign deal. Experts predict it will put the city on the international business map.”

Diane.

My ex-wife.

The same woman I saw not long ago at the hospital.

The phone on my desk buzzed again, but I didn’t move. I just stared at the TV.

It was her. Her voice came through the speakers… smooth, confident, and calm.

“We at GlamHome believe beauty is more than appearance. It’s confidence. It’s identity. This partnership allows us to share that belief globally. I’m proud of what my team has built.”

I leaned back in my chair, my heart thudding in my chest.

She looked different. Not like the Diane I left behind. Not the woman who used to cry quietly at night or the one who always tried to make peace when I shut down. This Diane looked like she didn’t need anyone to save her.

She looked powerful.

And then, as the camera zoomed out, I saw something that made my stomach twist.

A small but visible curve under her suit jacket.

A baby bump.

I blinked, then leaned closer to the TV. No, that couldn’t be.

But it was.

She was pregnant. How the fuck did that happen?

The microphone caught one of the reporters asking, “Mrs. Henderson, is this your first child?”

She smiled slightly and said, “Yes. It’s been a beautiful journey so far, learning to balance business and motherhood. But I’m lucky to have a supportive team and family by my side.”

Family.

That one word hit harder than I wanted it to.

My chest tightened. My brain went blank for a few seconds, then started racing. Pregnant? Family? With who? When?

I rubbed my forehead and tried to think, but my thoughts kept clashing. Maybe it was a publicity stunt. Companies pulled those kinds of tricks all the time… emotional branding, sympathy marketing. But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn’t true. The glow on her face wasn’t something anyone could fake.

And that bump looked real.

“GlamHome’s shares have already risen sixteen percent since the announcement,” the news anchor added. “Mrs. Henderson’s leadership has not only elevated the brand but also attracted international investors to Graham City.”

I let out a long breath and turned away from the screen. My coffee had gone cold.

How did she bounce back like this?

Before, during and after the divorce phase, she could barely function. I remembered her trembling hands as she signed our divorce papers, her voice breaking when she asked if I was sure about ending it. I said yes… because at the time, I thought it was what I needed.

And now here she was, living the life she once dreamed of. A successful CEO. A mother-to-be. A woman who looked happier without me.

The irony of it all burned in my throat.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of my own decisions settle in. My hand trembled as I picked up the coffee again, but I couldn’t drink it.

Maybe I shouldn’t have left her.

The thought came out of nowhere.

No, I told myself. Don’t start that. We were falling apart long before Amanda came into the picture. 

I reached for the remote and turned off the TV. The silence that followed felt heavy, like the air itself was pressing down on me.

For a few minutes, I just sat there, staring at my reflection in the black screen. I looked tired. Maybe older. Definitely more lost than I wanted to admit.

Maybe this was her way of proving something, that she didn’t need me, that she could rise without me. Diane always had that quiet determination. But still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe I was the one who lost.

I unlocked my phone and searched her name. The results came up instantly. Every news outlet was talking about her:

“GlamHome CEO Diane Henderson Signs Multi-Million Dollar Deal with Italy’s Marvella Group.”

“Pregnant Businesswoman Leads Graham City to Global Spotlight.”

“Diane Henderson: The Woman Who Changed the Face of Local Beauty Industry.”

I shook my head wearily then thought about Amanda. She would lose her mind if she saw this.

But I couldn’t tell her. Not yet. I couldn’t even understand what I was feeling myself.

Still, deep inside, something told me I needed to know the truth. I needed to find out if Diane was really pregnant... and most importantly , for me or for whoever she was married to. I needed to know if she really had someone else.

Because if she did, that meant I’d have to face something I wasn’t ready for… the reality that I’d let go of the best thing I ever had.

I scrolled through my contacts, my thumb hovering over one name. Someone I could trust. Someone who wouldn’t judge me for what I was about to do.

Then I pressed “Call.”

When he finally picked up, I took a deep breath and said quietly, “Hey, I need you to find something out for me.”